


Poetry

by flibbertygigget



Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Gen, Old Age, Post-Duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man, a woman, and a bust of Alexander Hamilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry

An old man in a patched overcoat stood in a museum. His hands were folded behind him, his back was Ramiro straight, and every so often he let out a low sigh. He gazed at the marble bust of Alexander Hamilton.

Eventually an old woman joined him. She didn't feel the need to hold his military posture or keep the same respectful distance. Instead she stepped forward and touched the base of the sculpture, bowing her head as though in prayer. The man's gaze shifted from the bust to her, but his air of reverence didn't change.

"I'm having a copy of my Hamilton made for the Grange," the old woman said at last, turning to look at the man.

"I suppose we shall not see each other anymore," Aaron Burr said. Eliza Hamilton nodded. "I wish you all the best."

"You know you are welcome to visit me at any time," she said. "You need not be alone, Colonel Burr. My Hamilton was always so fond of you."

"Now that I find hard to believe."

"You knew him, Colonel. He was passionate, he was a genius, but his words were too often ill-considered. It was only a matter of time before they caught up to him." Eliza took one of Burr's hands in both of hers. "Please, sir, I entreat you. Come join me for dinner." Burr gently disengaged himself from her grasp.

"My apologies," he said. "I am afraid I have business to attend to this evening." Eliza Hamilton nodded. Burr knew that she saw through his lies, but this was for the best. She could not let him go without a token excuse, and he could not bear to make small talk with the widow of his greatest mistake. They made their hushed goodbyes, and Colonel Aaron Burr was left alone to continue his study.

"The world is too wide without you, my friend," he said softly. "I thought your poetry superfluous and your passion insane, but I know now that the world has an overabundance of prose in it. Your poetry was rarer and more necessary than my meaner stuff." Aaron Burr reached out a hand, fingers just brushing the bust's cold cheek. "Yes, this was poetry."


End file.
